I wanted to jot down a few thoughts here, but since I’m very lucky and have so many things for which to be thankful, this might get a little long. For that, I apologize.

First and foremost, I want to say how thankful I am for my Mom and Dad and all of my family. Everyone’s at my parents’ house today, and I’m sorry I can’t be there with you, but I send all of my love. At least my turkey recipe can be there in my place. I’m so proud to be a product of you all, who taught me about love and respect and compassion and courage. I fully expect all of you to have olive fingers at some point today, especially you Uncle Greg, who started this tradition.

I’m thankful for my posse, as CF calls them; all the ladies, ladies please crew and their gentlemen, too, are having dinner at Pam and Mark’s today, and I have no doubt they’re having an absolute blast. Thank you all for being such kind, patient and generous friends, and for putting up with this girl, which can be a pain in the ass more often than not. They say you make your family when your actual family can’t be there, and these folks are my home away from home. They are the best travelers, concertgoers, beverage co-consumers, caretakers when sick, shoulders to cry on, wander around aimlessly folks a girl could ask for, and I’m damn lucky to know them. Give McKinley and Yagi some cheese for me, will you?

I’m thankful for C. and G. (and Mr. Nebula, too) in Brooklyn, who I can always look to as an excellent example and for thoughtful advice, not to mention stupendous musical and baseball knowledge. I’m proud of the work they’re both doing, and can’t wait to see what the future holds. I hope to see them more often, but am thankful for the few chances recently.

I’m thankful for Mimi and KVC, who have been endlessly kind and welcoming to me all of these years, no matter what. I look to them for inspiration, advice and broadening my horizons and just getting me out into the world.

On this massive foodie holiday, I’m very thankful to have food on my table, and in my cupboards and fridge. This has been a horribly tough year for most of the world, and it’s going to get tougher. I know the number of people without food grows by the second, and I aim to address that in variety of ways — I’ll post more about that specifically tomorrow.

I’m thankful to have a job that challenges me, and a fantastic editorial crew to work with every single day. I still wonder what luck allowed me to stumble into such a talented, insightful group of word wranglers.

I’m thankful for music, and that I can still hear it. It’s my air, my water, it sustains me when my heart and my head fail. Simply put: without music, I would cease to exist.

I’m thankful for Mr. Newman; he reminds me of why it’s good to be home, and to not take myself too seriously.

And I’m thankful for a new direction and a new chance for our country and our world. It’s going to be hard work, but we can do anything, if encouraged properly. The changes of the last month? They’re the perfect encouragement, giving power and inspiration to us all.

More thanks randomly wandering out of my mind in no particular order — I’m thankful for:

— Finally getting the chance to meet New Orleans, after 25 years of dreaming of it; I’ve found a new place that’s home— Joshua Tree: it’s always there, challenging and inspiring all at once, and remains the place I miss so much it twists my heart a little more each day.— Books: The shelves and shelves read and re-read, and the stacks sitting here waiting to take me to places as yet unknown… bliss.— Everest: These gentlemen opened up a whole new chapter of my musical experience; never thought I’d hear something so warm and authentic again in the world, but they proved me wrong.— Wisconsin: So many of the people I love are there (not mention it’s the land o’ cheese)— The Gutter Twins: Guides to the darkness, and the way through it, all at once.— Pie: When am I not thankful for pie?— All my college friends, many of whom I’m just finding again: we grew up together, and know things that no one else ever can— Vinyl: The record collecting will never end, and the sound just gets better and better.— Spoon: The lyrics continue to swirl around in my head when least expected, and the notes remind me to breathe.— Bogart and Bacall: The spark, and all that follows— The Cardinals: For showing me that some greater force in the world can still pull together a combination of individuals to make an incandescent whole.— Shrimp po-boys with fried green tomatoes— Negronis: Always looking for the best, though some damn good contenders appeared this year— The Hold Steady: Remind me where I came from, both the good and the bad of it.— Local rock venues: Something I’ll never take for granted, having grown up without them. Thanks also to the people running them, who spend their lives believing in music and those that make it.— Hazlewood: My not-so-local local.— Bass players: The ones I’ve listened to and admired for years, and especially a few of those that I’m just discovering.— Drummers: And some of these drummers, along with their band’s bass players, should be cloned as a rhythm section whole and sent around the world to spread the ROCK. A good rhythm section is priceless. See Bun E. and Tommy, Chris and Rick, Brad and Spacewolf, Bobby and Galen, Keith and John, Topper and Paul, DJ and John, Jim and Rob, Steve and John, Al and Donald, Levon and Rick.— Les Paul cherry sunburst guitars— Chocolate chip pancakes from the JT Country Kitchen— Frequent-flier miles— Screwball comedies (Holiday and His Girl Friday are constants in this life)— Sunshine, the mythical being that constantly eludes Seattle— Vicki, for teaching me to cook, and to Nana, for showing me the importance of cooking— Dogs and cats, and all the friends who let me spoil theirs rotten— All the Rekords Rekords gang, for the sweet sounds and for honoring Natasha so beautifully— My cameras, and all they let me see in a new light— Mr. Otis Redding— Anyone who has taken the time to read this blog, today or ever— Everything that’s yet to happen